Owen's Nobility
by KristieConspiracy
Summary: Creative, naïve, honest, a dreamer. Each of these words describe just one aspect of Owen Cauldwell - but not one of them is enough. Written for Character of the Week Drabble Competition (week 3).
1. Blind, Deaf, Distracted

**Challenge: **Fire the Canon's _Character of the Week Drabble Competition (week 3) _on HPFC; Sunlight Hurts My Eyes' _The Fault In Our Stars Competition _on HPFC

**Characters: **Owen Cauldwell, Laura Madley

**Prompt: **Platonic relationship; Isaac #4: _I'm just saying, I'd much rather be deaf than blind._

**Word count: **178

**A/N: **Hello. I'm getting the family out of the way here. Owen's a halfblood, with his dad being a wizard. He is the youngest of four boys. From youngest to oldest (at age as of GoF), Owen is 11, Paul is 13, Jacob is 17 and Neil is 19. Their mothers' name is Janice, their father Miles.

* * *

"First years don't get to go to the dance, Owen."

"So?" The Hufflepuff boy didn't look up from the cartoon he was drawing over a piece of parchment. "I promised mum I'd go home over Christmas, anyway."

His companion pouted, slumping onto the bench beside him. "Don't you _care_?"

"Music's overrated. And besides, I can't dance. That's Paul's thing." This was true. His next oldest brother, a third year Hufflepuff, could definitely dance. That was how he'd convinced Susan Bones to ask him to the Yule Ball as her date.

"So?"

"I'm not about to learn. I'm just saying, I'd much rather be deaf than blind. I _like_ drawing."

"You're weird."

"That's why we're friends, isn't it, Laura?"

She tilted her head, staring at the boy with the too-long hair. "That, and I know you're going to make it up to me."

"What do you want me to draw for you?"

She grinned. "Not that. You just owe me a _favour_."

"Okay," he said. It wasn't in his nature to see any danger in her words, after all.


	2. Middle Ground

**Challenge: **Fire the Canon's _Character of the Week Drabble Competition (week 3) _on HPFC

**Characters: **Owen Cauldwell

**Prompt: **_Parallel_

**Word count: **191

* * *

Owen had never been more confused than he was in the year that followed Dumbledore's death.

Everywhere he turned, people spouted their views. Slytherins' professed superiority, basking in the chaos of the Carrows. Gryffindors' argued at every opportunity that the snakes and Death Eaters were as far from right as they could get. He couldn't find the middle ground he'd been standing on for as long as he could remember.

_I feel like I'm living a parallel existence_, he wrote to Laura when she didn't come back to school after Christmas. _Like I'm experiencing the same events as everyone else, but they aren't quite touching me, you know?_

The day after he sent the letter, Paul lashed out at a Slytherin who had mocked Susan for the death of her aunt.

The day after that, Paul had been the victim who Professor Carrow had ordered them to _crucio_ in class. Owen refused, for the first time in his life actually disagreeing with someone.

The day after that, he experienced pain unlike anything he'd ever known. It wasn't for nothing, though; he had learned.

_There is no middle ground._


	3. Ruined

**Challenge: **Fire the Canon's _Character of the Week Drabble Competition (week 3) _on HPFC

**Characters: **Owen Cauldwell, Laura Madley

**Prompt: **Must involve Diagon Alley

**Word count: **198

* * *

The war was over, that was what the _Prophet_ said.

It was won by Harry Potter and his friends on the night that the younger students had been evacuated. People had actually seen the Dark Lord's corpse, before some magic had rotted it away to nothing.

"You wouldn't think so," Owen whispered to himself, staring at what remained of Diagon Alley. Despite being fifteen years old, he clutched his mothers' hand like a lifeline, as though afraid letting go would cause him to fall into the same state of wreck as the wizarding district.

"Hush, Owen," she whispered back, but he barely heard it. He was having trouble keeping a hold on reality as the few visitors to the stores brushed past.

There were no unbroken windows. Glass littered the street. Paint flaked away, scratched from the walls. The closer to Knockturn Alley he got, the worse it was. No one wanted to repair the preferred shopping place of Death Eaters. Honestly, it felt like dementors still explored the area.

The cold fell away, though, when a familiar voice called his name. He turned away from the wreck, smiling faintly.

Laura didn't even know how she helped him.


	4. Innocence

**Challenge: **Fire the Canon's _Character of the Week Drabble Competition (week 3) _on HPFC

**Characters: **Owen Cauldwell, Laura Madley

**Prompt: **Must be written in first person

**Word count: **170

* * *

I'd completely forgotten about a promise I'd made seven years before I graduated from Hogwarts. Of course I had: I'd only been half paying attention at the time, day dreaming like usual as I crafted an intricate illustration that was now hidden away in a portfolio no one knew I kept.

The promise existed, though, even if I'd managed to forget. It came to me in a whisper and a grin, and then she slipped away, out of my reach.

"You promised me a favour."

I had no idea what Laura had planned. I never did, never wanted to. Maybe part of me knew that it was better that way.

More likely I was just oblivious. Why not? I was clueless about everything back then. I'd survived a war, and I was still more naive than the average seven year old.

Call it a character flaw. I didn't know. I didn't care. I was comfortable in the little bubble I'd crafted for myself.

It wasn't safe, but it was home.


	5. Promises and Favours

**Challenge: **Fire the Canon's _Character of the Week Drabble Competition (week 3) _on HPFC

**Characters: **Owen Cauldwell, Laura Madley

**Prompt: **Romantic relationship

**Word count: **170

* * *

With an hour left in the journey back to Kings' Cross, Laura gestured for Owen to follow her out of the carriage, away from the Hufflepuffs'. He was surprised, but then he wasn't: Laura always was impulsive.

"You owe me a favour, Owen," she said.

"Yeah, you told me." He watched as she leaned closer to him, her voice a whisper. He dropped his to match. "But I'd always do anything you asked me to. You didn't have to make it a promise."

"But now you can't get out of doing what I tell you. So I'm telling you now: don't hate me."

He blinked his dark eyes, nodding, wondering what could be so bad he'd hate her for it. "Okay."

She leaned closer still, brushing her lips against his. He felt a quick spark - but she pulled away quickly. Too quickly for his liking.

"I really like you, Owen."

"Me, too, Laura."

"No, I mean I really, really like you. Like..._like_ like you."

He smiled. "So do I."


End file.
